


No Big Dill

by memorizingthedigitsofpi



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Banter, Bus Kids - Freeform, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Teasing, pickle discourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 11:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17559893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorizingthedigitsofpi/pseuds/memorizingthedigitsofpi
Summary: Sometimes our friends don't like things and sometimes that's a bigger deal than it really should be.(inspired by anask on ao3commentoftheday)





	No Big Dill

"Are you  _serious_?"

Skye frowned at Fitz and squinted at him in confusion. "... Yeah?" She looked over at Jemma for some help, but she just sighed and shook her head. "Why?"

" _Why_?" Fitz threw up his hands and looked over at Jemma. "She doesn't know  _why_ ," he said, gesturing at Skye. 

Jemma looked at him steadily and sighed. "I  _do_ know why," she pointed out. "And I don't think the reason is going to help very much."

Fitz's mouth dropped open from the sheer betrayal. Bringing his hands down to rest on the small of his back, he shook his head and tutted his disapproval. "Jemma, Jemma, Jemma. Et tu, Bruté?"

Skye waited for Jemma to finish rolling her eyes and sighing before she asked, "What's the reason?"

"It's ridiculous," Jemma assured her. 

"Ri _dic_ -!" The umbrage fairly radiated off of Fitz. He had to take a step backward, he was so insulted. "It's perfectly logical, thankyou _very_ much."

Now it was Skye's turn to roll her eyes. "How about you let me be the judge of that?" she asked pointedly. "Why does it bother you so much that I don't like pickles?"

Fitz pulled a large dill out of the jar that Skye had wrinkled her nose at, beginning this whole conversation. "Because pickles are the perfect food."

Skye looked over at Jemma who had slumped back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. She looked like a woman who had heard all of this before and was just waiting to get to the end of it all so that she could enjoy life again. Skye was beginning to regret coming into the kitchen five minutes ago. All she'd wanted was some chips and all she was getting was... whatever this was. 

"They're really not," she pointed out. She was pretty proud of how not-sarcastic she was sounding. That had been downright gentle, in her opinion. 

"They're crunchy," Fitz said, ignoring her to start listing off the properties of his favourite snack. "Salty, and sour. They pair well with other foods. They don't make you thirsty because they've got built-in juiciness."

Skye made a face and shuddered. The idea of drinking pickle juice almost made her lose her lunch. 

"And they're made from cucumbers, so technically speaking you're eating a vegetable. But they taste a lot better than vegetables. Tell her the health benefits, Simmons."

Jemma sighed, looking very put-upon. "Fermented foods such as pickles contain bacteria that are good for your gut and your immune system."

"Seriously?" Skye looked down at her stomach and then over at the jar of pickles. " _How_ good?" she asked, eyes narrowed. The way she was talking, they weren't a superfood or anything. 

"Eat a yogurt. You'll get the same effect."

"Hey now!" Fitz still looked affronted. "Tell her about the vitamin K."

" _You_ tell her," Jemma said, leaning back again. "I've had enough of your pickle crusade. It's okay to let people not like things!"

"But-"

"Honestly, Fitz. It's like you haven't realized that her not liking pickles leave more of the bloody things for  _you_."

Fitz blinked. His face reflected all of the gears turning in his brain as that point ricocheted around inside of his skull. Slowly, his expression turned from annoyed to guarded and he looked at Skye suspiciously. Reaching out, he placed one hand over the top of the pickle jar and pulled it a bit closer to himself. 

"You're right," he said in the stilted tones of someone who has never tried acting before and is therefore overdoing it slightly. "Pickles are disgusting. Terrible things, pickles. Nasty. Best to just leave them be entirely."

Skye grinned wickedly and leaned forward across the counter that stood between them. "I don't know. You've made them sound  _so appealing_. Maybe I've been wrong this whole time."

Meeting Fitz's eyes, she grabbed the jar and gave it a little tug. He held on and the resultant jolt spilled pickle juice all over both of their hands. Skye tried her best not to throw up. She was never going to get that smell off her skin, was she?

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

Their eyes stayed locked for a good ten seconds before they both blinked at the same time. 

"Alright, alright. I was bluffing." Skye chuckled and let the jar go. She moved immediately over to the sink to start scrubbing her hand in a vain attempt at not smelling like dill for the rest of the day. "Note to self: don't mention hating olives, too," she joked under her breath. 

"Are you _serious_?"

This time it was Jemma saying it.

Skye sighed. All she'd wanted was chips. 


End file.
